Through The Years
by Ashton-Hernandez690
Summary: Antonio and Arthur were best friends! Well... Were is the key word... ((Just a collection of memories and stuff. I worked forever on this and I hope everyone likes it!))


The young Arthur Kirkland sat on the docks with his best friend Antonio Fernandez. The two boys grew up in separate countries but at a very young age their families had met and since that day Antonio and Arthur became best friends. They would walk together around the neighborhood, with adult supervision of course. Recently Arthur took notice of a nearby pier he could walk to that was practically right behind his house. His mother could call him in for supper when the time came and she could see her son as long as he sat on top of a crate or something of the sort. For about two months Arthur was sharing this place with his best friend Antonio. Both kids would spend hours on end watching the hustle and bustle of a life on the sea. On rare occasions they would see a pirate ship! Boy oh boy did they love pirates! As yet another large ship pulls out of the pier Arthur turned to his friend with a smile.

"I will be the best piwate when I gwow up!" Arthur states proudly.

"No! I will!" Antonio interjects. The six year old crosses his arms over his chest.

The children can't help but smile at each other. Arthur looked over at his friend. His olive green eyes meeting Antonio's emerald orbs. He took his hand in his and smiled. "Maybe... One day we will be piwates togever..."

Antonio smiles. "Yay! I'd like that Arfur!"

Arthur giggles. "Fwends for ever?"

Antonio nods. "Fwends forever..."

"Arthur!" The English boy's mother calls. "It's time for your friend to go home. Say goodbye dear!"

The blonde nods. He looks over at Antonio. Saying goodbye was always hard for these two. Even though they were sure to see each other the following day not having the other by their side was enough to bring the young kids to tears. Arthur sighs and pulls his friend in for a hug. Antonio giggles and hugs back tightly. Neither wanted to let go, ever.

_ (6 years later...)_

Antonio say crying on his front porch. His face buried in his hands. Why oh why did something like this have to happen to him?! Why not anybody else?! The Spanish boy shakes his head in denial as he continued to cry. His tears rolling down his cheeks and onto the steps. He just couldn't believe it. Just last week Antonio's home was broken into. His mother told him to go hide! She told him everything was going to be alright! She lied! Why didn't Antonio try to save her?!

Murdered... Fucking murdered...

"Idiota de mierda ..." He repeats over and over again.

He bites his lip. Antonio blamed himself for everything! If it wasn't for him the thieves wouldn't have gotten in the house! He should have locked the door! He should have been a more responsible son! He should have-...

"Antonio? Are you alright?"

The crying Spaniard looks up. The bright sun blinding him for a moment as he tried to figure out who addressed him. It was Arthur, of course. Antonio greeted his friend with a smile. "Hola amigo! What's going on?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you..." Arthur asks as he sits down beside his friend.

The Spaniard lets out a sigh and he wiped his eyes. How embarrassing... Antonio didn't like having other people see him cry. It made him feel weak and too emotional. But then again this was his best friend. Arthur sighs as well. He looked into Antonio's eyes. More than anything he wanted his friend to smile. He wanted to see that big silly half smirk that was always plastered on his face. He really missed that look... He hadn't seen it in quite a long time.

"Why are you crying?" Arthur asks. He placed a hand on Antonio's shoulder.

Antonio smiles weakly at the ginger touch of his friend. He looked at the ground, shaking his head. "Mi madre... She was murdered last weekend."

Arthur gasps. "Antonio... Antonio I-... I'm so sorry..."

"I-it's ok amigo... No es su culpa..." He sighs.

Antonio could feel the tears as they began clouding up his vision. He hung his head, allowing the tears to once more slip from his eyes and down his cheeks. The Spanish teen buried his face into his hands. Arthur paused. The young Brit kept quiet for a little while. He was trying to think of what to say... What to do. Out of instinct Arthur wrapped his arms around the crying boy. Antonio hides his face into his friend's shoulder. He grips it tightly. Antonio didn't want Arthur to ever let go of him... Ever! Arthur was his best friend. Arthur was his best friend in the whole world! And nothing would change that... Nothing. Soon enough the two pulled away from each other. Arthur wiped the stray tear from Antonio's cheek.

"Friends forever?" Arthur asked softly, offering Antonio a soft smile.

Antonio nods. "Si... Friends forever..."

_ (5 years later) _

"Thief!"

"He's getting away!"

"Somebody stop him!"

"Call the police!"

"After him!"

The shouting of the people filled his ears. It has been five years since his mother's death. Now he had no way to make a living. Arthur offered him a job opportunity but Antonio had to decline. But look where he was now... He was a thief... A poor, lowly thief... Today marked the fourth day the Spaniard had gone without food. He didn't like to steal but he had to. It was his only chance of survival. Of course... Stealing came with consequences. Antonio would often be chased by the law. Running for (at times) hours on end to get away from the authorities. A fairly small fruit stand was the target of the day. All Antonio wanted was a tomato... Or two. Yes... He only wanted two tomatoes. The manager of the fruit stand caught him red handed. Now the seventeen years old was running for his life down the road.

His breathing coming out even and strong. Antonio had ran so much in his life. Also, knowing the streets and ally ways better than everyone in town gave him an advantage to plan a route to safety after every theft. His undressed feet hit the ground. Left right, left right, left right. He was sprinting, not running, sprinting toward where he needed to go. That was Arthur's home... Antonio would always hide out there until the streets have cooled down after his thievery. His safe zone came into view and Antonio grins as he slips inside.

SLAM!

Panting Antonio slides down the wooden door and onto the floor. He pulls the tomatoes he had stolen out of his bag and wipes them off on his shirt. He smiles and brought one to his mouth.

"Antonio! Put the tomato down!"

He blinks. The soft red fruit fell from his hand and onto the floor. Antonio looked upward. Arthur enters the room. The Brit was well dressed in a business-like fashion. Oh right... He was rich now... Antonio had almost forgotten. Arthur walks over to Antonio. He held out his hand. The Spaniard takes it. Arthur helps Antonio to his feet. The two looked at each other for a moment in silence. Totally different life styles. One man living a life of luxury and well being. The other man on the street, having to steal his next meal. Arthur sighs as he looked out the window.

"Police again, right?"

Antonio nods. "I'm sorry amigo... I was hungry... A-and the stand... It was right there... I couldn't-..."

"Enough..." Arthur held up a hand to silence the other.

His eyes soften and he looked Antonio up and down. This boy was a mess! Arthur was eighteen years old and quite the prosperity and good luck has come his way. And then... Antonio. One year younger and living the life of a street rat. Ugh... That word... Street rat... Because of bad decisions every time Arthur heard that word he always thought of Antonio. The two were still best friends. Arthur didn't look at Antonio any differently than he did years ago.

He paused. "Why don't you let me help you?"

"Because I don't need the help..." Antonio says quietly, averting the other's gaze.

Arthur shakes his head. "You do Antonio... Trust me when I say this... You do."

He walks over to his friend. Arthur licked his thumb. Using it to wipe the dirt off of Antonio's cheek. It hurt... It hurt both of them. Antonio didn't want his friend to see him like this... Arthur didn't want his friend to have to live this way. Arthur looked into Antonio's eyes.

"Friends forever?"

Antonio smiled weakly and nods. "Yeah... Friends forever..."

_(2 years later) _

"Bloody twat!"

"Bastardo tonto!"

"Couch potato!"

"Control freak!"

"Lazy wanker!"

"Idiota molesto!"

"Dumb git!"

"Shit chef!"

"Take it back!"

"NEVER!"

"FINE!"

The two boys growled. Arthur turns away. His hands were balled into fists. The two best friends... They were at each other's throats. Over what one may ask. It all started about two weeks ago. Antonio had moved in with Arthur until he could get back on his feet. During that time he wasted a lot of money. He would make messes, and not clean them up. He would go out then come back the morning after drunk off his ass. Arthur paid the bills. He cleaned the house! What did Antonio do?! Nothing! The Brit crosses his arms. He has had enough!

"Get out..."

"What?" Antonio shouts, taking a step back.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You heard me... Get out..."

"Fine then!" Antonio growls. The Spaniard makes his way to the door. "Some 'friend' you are!"

"Friend?! Please Antonio..." Arthur spat. "Friends-..."

"...For never!" Antonio finished.

With that he slammed the door!


End file.
